


Interwoven

by wholehearted



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Love, Deran POV, Difficult Decisions, Enduring love, Family Issues, Love, M/M, Pope POV, Sacrifice, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 14:04:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20098396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholehearted/pseuds/wholehearted
Summary: Deran and Adrian make an impossible choice; the ultimate sacrifice?





	Interwoven

**Author's Note:**

> Written before AK season 5 was confirmed. 
> 
> Based on two requests from the **Angst/Fluff Prompt List** (on Tumblr):
> 
> **  
**  
_#81. "It's cold, you should take my jacket."_  

> 
> **  
**  
_#40. "I wasn't lying when I said I love you."_  

> 
> Thank you to bestillmyslashyheart for beta reading. 😍
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

**Deran**

  
It’s cold, early morning, the sun slowly rising on the horizon. Deran and Adrian are side-by-side, facing the water, forearms braced on the balcony’s edge. They’re looking out over the waves, not talking, not touching, not looking at one another. There’s a deafening silence between them, besides the roar of the ocean.

Deran’s mind is racing. He can’t fix anything. Can’t make any of this nightmare go away. It’s happening, and it feels like he can’t breathe.

He can’t remember the last time he slept or even ate anything. Deran’s body is nearly vibrating with a flood of adrenaline. He’s anxious/worried/fearful, all these complex emotions churning within him. At the same time, he paradoxically experiences a bone deep exhaustion and sense of fatigue weighing on him. The love of his life is in danger and there’s nothing he can do to stop it or neutralize the threat. 

He and Adrian had argued in circles, yelling and pleading, neither one of them satisfied with any options, and at this point he’s even not sure what else he can do.

“It’ll be okay,” Deran’s voice sounds rough and unsteady, even to his own ears. 

He chances a look at Adrian who’s shaking his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. Deran returns his eyes to the ocean. It’s the only thing that makes any sense to him right now, the ebb and flow of the tides, the water as it crashes onto shore. He absently wonders if the ocean will sound and feel differently when Adrian’s gone. 

His eyes burn, stinging with tears. 

Adrian stands and clears his throat. Deran closes his eyes when Adrian says, “_**It’s cold, you should take my jacket**_,” and drapes the light weight material over Deran’s back. He can feel the warmth from Adrian’s body heat seep into his skin, and he wants to hold onto it. Never let it go.

Deran doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. He hears Adrian walk back into the house, closing the sliding door behind him. 

Deran stands on the deck until his legs won’t hold him up anymore. He finally sits on the shitty wooden chair and cries. He cries harder than he thinks he ever has before. He’s surrounded by the scent of Adrian, still lingering on the jacket, and it sears him to the core. The agony of emotion is greater than anything else he’s ever known, greater than he could have ever imagined. 

He doesn’t want to go back into the house, into _their _home, because he knows Adrian’s no longer there. He’s gone. Never coming back. 

Deran hunches down, curling in on himself, and prays to a god that he doesn’t believe in, that he will somehow survive all of this.

He’s startled by a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. Deran has no idea what time it is or how long he’s been asleep. He’s still on the deck, in the same uncomfortable chair, his body is aching from head to toe. 

The hand squeezes a bit too hard and Deran hears the whispered words, “It’s done.” 

Bile rises in his throat and he leans over to throw up. Vomit splashing onto himself and onto Pope’s shoes. He’s choking on tears and snot and whatever else is lurching out of his body. 

Deran doesn’t believe it, can’t let himself believe it, but he knows Pope. The man is methodical, precise, and able to detach from the things he’s had to do. This time is no different.

~~~

Over the next several months Deran feels like a shell of his former self. Nothing brings him pleasure or joy. There is no making him laugh or even smile. He’s pushed everyone away, doesn’t want to see or deal with his family or friends. He does the bare minimum to keep the bar afloat. 

His mind is a mess, his heart mangled. 

Law enforcement keeps harassing him (though not nearly as much as they had in the beginning); they’re still trying to jam him up for Adrian’s disappearance and anything else they can find. His cellphone and computer were seized right away, and a permanent detail had been following him up until a few weeks ago.

What can he do? It’s not like he can tell them to stop looking, that there’s nothing to find. He doesn’t care what the cops do anyway. He won’t be around much longer…so _fuck ‘em_.  
  


**Pope**

Pope opens up the bar, Deran gave him the keys awhile back. He notices a couple of surfboards propped up against the closed office door and a piece of paper taped to the handle. 

He grabs the note and reads it. He grunts to himself and crumples it in his fist. His hands are shaking, as he sends a text to Craig and J to meet him at The Drop immediately.

When they both arrive he lets them read the message for themselves. 

_ **I can’t be here anymore. Don’t try to find me. I love you. – D** _

J quietly sits on a bar stool, staring at the wall. Pope doesn’t say a word, as Craig spirals. 

“What? Are you fucking kidding me? This is bullshit!” 

Craig pounds his fist on the bar and yells, asking the same questions over and over. Occasionally he kicks something or throws a bottle, glass shattering haphazardly. 

“That’s it?!”

“He just leaves a note and we’re not supposed to do anything?!” 

“What _is _this?!”

After several rounds of spinning himself up, Craig finally stands still, clenching his hands in his hair, eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

“How much more family do we have to lose?” His voice breaks a little.

Pope doesn’t have any more answers for him than he did twenty minutes ago. 

“I told you, he left his new cell and the keys to the Scout on the desk in the office.” Pope already looked through the phone for any indications of where Deran might be, but the thing had been wiped clean or maybe there was nothing on it to begin with. He can’t be sure.

“Fuck! Well we gotta fucking find him!” Craig frantically looks between J and Pope, wiping the wetness off his face. “Right? _Right?_”

“I can do some digging,” J offers, tone distant. So far, he’s shown zero emotion or said anything this entire time. Pope isn’t sure he’s ever met someone more shutdown than his nephew, and that’s saying a lot. 

“If he’s gone, he’s gone, but I can contact a couple of P.I.’s I know, to see what they can come up with.” Pope is trying to be helpful, but knows he’s not likely succeeding. 

“I can’t fucking believe this! I’m trying to figure out how to deal with a new baby and get my life together. Smurf died, Adrian just up and disappeared, and now Deran’s gone! _Shit!!_ It’s like we’re cursed!”

Pope feels a flare of something when Craig mentions Adrian. He’s not sure what it is or what to call it, but he quickly squashes emotion. Pushing all remnants of it away, far away.

Pope has lost so much family in such a short amount of time, they all have, and he knows that if he lets himself think about that fact too long he’ll never come back from the brink again.

“We‘ll find him.” Pope hopes he at least sounds more confident than he feels. He doesn’t bother telling them Deran also left behind all the paperwork for the bar, assigning the three of them the new owners of The Drop. 

_One mess at a time. _

Pope looks at the broken shards all over the floor, from Craig’s understandable freakout, and thinks: _more for me to clean up._   
  


**Deran**

Deran is sitting on a beach in some exotic sounding country, and hoping, someday, that what’s left of his family will forget about him. He knows what he did—how he did it—was shitty, but staying wasn’t an option for him.

It hadn’t been as hard as he thought it would be, to walk away from his brothers and nephew. The memories there, the pain, the twisted and sick history, it was nothing he wanted for his future. If he had any chance at a real life, he knew he had to go. So, using a lifetime of knowledge and a broad skill set, he did.

He methodically planned out what needed to happen for him to fully extract himself from the Cody family legacy. 

Deran had immediately moved out the house and into an efficiency apartment (in one of the properties Smurf had given to him). Thank fuck, it sold quickly, and he was able to quietly sell off all of the other properties too, except The Drop. He’d gone outside their usual network to get a passport and the necessary paperwork drawn up. He used a new name to set up an offshore account, and move all his money, except for the legit income that was tied up in the bar. He’d even driven to neighboring cities in SoCal, to hole-in-the-wall places, to get most of his tattoos covered, or altered enough to be unrecognizable. He wanted no trace of his former self or former life. All he’d wanted was to get the fuck out of Oceanside and never look back. 

He sighs. In a million years Deran never thought he’d end up on the other side of the world, living a completely different life, hidden away from the family. 

If he’s being honest, he’s not unhappy about this new existence, this new journey. 

He leans over and presses a firm kiss to those familiar lips, beautiful deep blue eyes looking back at him. There’s no question. Deran would do it all again, in a heartbeat, if it meant he could be right here, sitting next to Adrian. 

The love of his life, worth _any _risk. 

Deran is deeply grateful Pope made Adrian’s truck disappear at the exact time he needed and from the obscure location he’d given him. His brother probably suspected what happened, but he never asked any questions, even all those months later, even when Deran disappeared for periods of time to ‘take care of things’. 

Deran knows he left Pope, all of them, in an unfair position, but his choice was crystal clear from the start.

Adrian is the family Deran had chosen. 

_Always anything for him. _

Adrian had vehemently argued with Deran’s plan, nearly begged him to ‘see reason’, but in the end Deran simply said, “Either you go and I follow, or I turn myself over in exchange for full immunity for you. I am not living a free life without you.” The statements sounded dramatic, but Deran was deadly serious, and Adrian could tell. This was the one thing Deran couldn’t give him; he couldn’t let Adrian be locked away for one massively stupid lapse in judgement.

Now, Deran brushes his thumb over Adrian’s scraggly beard, and runs his fingers through the shoulder-length, strawberry-blonde locks. It looks good on him. Adrian has somehow become even more freckled, and Deran certainly isn’t complaining about that. His favorite pastime is still kissing the new ones, while reverently honoring ones that have been generously sprinkling his smooth skin for years. It’s like a road map to Adrian’s muscled physique, and Deran enjoys following that trail, one beautiful freckle at a time.

He’s also very appreciative of Adrian’s new tattoos. His love has recently inked some gorgeous pieces of art on various parts of his body. Deran’s favorite is the one on Adrian’s shoulder. It’s a Celtic knot with the initials DC and AD interwoven in a continuous pattern, the letters are almost impossible to see unless someone points them out, but Deran sees them everyday. He has the same tattoo on his own bicep, covering up old ink. Almost like a fresh start, for him, for them.

Initially, it took them awhile to adjust to the nuances of their new life, but reconnecting and living together had been the easiest transition for both of them. Like two pieces of a puzzle fitting together, perfectly matched, seamless. Even after nearly 6 months apart (maintaining minimal contact via cryptic posts on darkweb message boards) their reunion had been a passionate blur of tears and wet kisses. They’d spent most of that first week just loving and fucking, making up for lost time. Holed up in their tiny beach bungalow, simply happy to be together, to be _them _again. One of the biggest challenges they’d faced in the beginning, was how hard it was to call one another by their new names. It is still sometimes a bit of a struggle.

Often enough, Adrian still says Deran doesn’t ‘look like a Jake’, to which Deran always replies ‘I think you were always a Spencer’. 

Of course they know it could all still burn to ash, the two of them getting caught at some point, but for now, they’re content just taking things as they come. Day to day, and moment to moment. Just being present and connected. 

They share another lazy kiss, before grabbing their boards and heading into the water. Both of them laughing and surfing, living their life with a little bit of luck and a lot of love. Hopeful. Together.

  
**Pope**

_ **I wasn’t lying when I said I love you.** _

The message is from an unknown number, but Pope knows exactly who’s sent it. It’s been nearly two years without a word from him, _them_, and he’s sure this will be the one and only contact he will ever receive. And Pope’s okay with that.

“Babe, what’s got you smiling?” A soft voice lilting through the air.

“Nothing, Amy. I’m just happy.”

Committing the words to memory, he deletes the text. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. 😊
> 
> Here’s my last go at the complicated dynamic between Deran Cody/Adrian Dolan (*crosses fingers and whispers: someday Adrian Cody). My first and favorite OTP. ❤️


End file.
